Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The authors claim no ownership of the characters within, nor received any compensation for this work.
So dark and deep, Aya could have floated forever. So quiet, he could have listened for ages to the silence. So welcoming, he wanted to cry over the acceptance he'd wanted for so long. He wanted to lay here forever in the engulfing nothingness, with never a thought in his head but how good it was.
Sensation began to return slowly. The nothing became more solid under his back, and twined with light linen softness around his limbs. It began to smell very faintly of flowers and baby powder; it began to sound like deep breathing. Aya only briefly mourned the disappearance of the womb of darkness as the comfort of the real world snuggled in around him.
A heaviness weighed down one side of him. The shape and gravity of it, and the slight stick of flesh pressed to flesh for many hours, told him with sleepy certainty that it was Cye. Images of the night before rose in his mind, not with the sudden dread of remembrance that often plagued him on early mornings, but with a sort of hazy dreamlike satisfaction. It had been good. For now, ramifications could be damned. It had simply been good.
They had shifted in the night, Aya vaguely remembered. He nearly woke up once or twice, roused into a half-consciousness by Cye's squirming. Now he was on his back, and Cye was curled up at his side, softly breathing against his neck. One of the boy's hands was lightly fisted on his chest.
One of his hands, he was vaguely surprised to discover without opening his eyes, rested on the smooth but firm flesh of Cye's bottom. Cool and silky was the skin under his fingers, but a slight squeeze revealed the strength underneath. The strength of deep-pumping hips, clutching and releasing between his thighs...
Aya kneaded Cye's bottom a little more, flushed warm with the memory. It had been good. Soon, he knew as consciousness lapped over his mind more fully, dread and fear and anxiety would come. Soon enough. He had precious few moments to enjoy this feeling before his heart caught up with his mind in wakefulness.
Beside him, Cye began to stir. At first it was just the twitch of his cheek, but soon his fingers followed, trying to grasp onto something that wasn't there. A soft moan followed, though nothing like the passionate groans of last night. This was a sound of pain and fear, one he had heard his teammates making through thin walls and doors often enough to diagnose. Nightmares. The nightmare didn't last long, only a few seconds of Cye grasping at him. Aya lay frozen, his eyes still closed from sleep, vaguely wondering what he should do. He didn't even know what he would do when Cye actually woke up -- what to do when the boy was still asleep was a completely different question. Comforting nightmares was a job for a mother or a lover.
When Aya felt a cool wet droplet hit his shoulder, he finally opened his eyes. It seemed that Cye did the same at the exact moment, choking on a little sound of surprise. For long heartbeats they just stared at each other, both at a loss. Then Cye clutched at him, taking deep, cleansing breaths. Awkwardly, Aya shifted his hand up off his rear and tried to pat the boy's back, recalling from somewhere that someone used to do that for him, when he was frightened.
"I'm sorry," Cye was whispering, still holding on tightly to Aya. "It's just... it was so dark, and they were calling, crying... they didn't want me to go..." He trailed off, reality imposing on his mind slowly but surely and convincing him that it had just been a dream. Aya didn't have to say a word.
Somehow in that silence, it seemed the shaken boy found comfort. A combination of the small pats and the stillness, perhaps. Or maybe it was only because Aya didn't freeze or disappear while Cye was collecting himself.
When neither of them were speaking or moving, when the stereo wasn't on or the water wasn't running, when neither of them made an effort to break the silence, it was like the dead. No sound reached in from outside, despite the fact that the windows were always open to the summerlike breezes. No birds chirped, no insects buzzed, no trees were near enough to even rustle in the wind. Only sometimes, the lap of waves on sand down on the beach would filter up to the house.
Now, that gentle wash was the only sound that reached them. Aya listened as Cye's breathing began to take on the same washing rhythm as the waves on the shore, and he knew the boy with the water affinity was calming down.
"Thanks," said Cye in a soft voice, and Aya remembered him saying the night before that he did not want to wake up alone. He wondered if nightmares had been plaguing his companion for longer than just one night.
The boy settled himself against his shoulder then, as though having every intention of staying there. One arm draped across Aya's stomach followed by a small pleased sigh. "I'm not prone to nightmares," Cye said after a few minutes, running his fingers idly over pale skin. "Not since..." The words trailed off and the soft touching stilled. Before Aya could become concerned Cye sat bolt upright in bed and a wide, brightly joyful grin lit his face.
"It's the guys!" he exclaimed, almost bouncing in excitement. "It wasn't a nightmare. No, no," Cye warned, waving away the skeptical look starting to pinch Aya's brows. "I told you about how we're tied together, that I can feel them. It wasn't a dream! I heard them calling, they were calling me to come back. Don't you get it?" He threw himself on top of Aya, grabbing him in a tight hug. "They're looking for us!" And plastered him with an extremely enthusiastic full contact kiss.
If Cye's energy had not been shared a moment ago with this sudden revelation, it was now. His mouth was joyfully rough against Aya's, covering and demanding. Aya was swept up in the out-of-control madness of his kiss, in the ultimate relief and happiness that reassurance had brought him. The sudden claiming sparked energy through his body, and by the time Cye pulled away, that energy had started to warm the flesh between his legs considerably.
When Cye finally closed the kiss and drew back, it was with that same predatory smile that always told Aya he was about to be pounced. At first, that stirring in his stomach when he saw that smile had felt like fear. Now, though, it seemed quite a different emotion, now that Aya knew just how giving and pleasurable Cye was when inspired.
"They'll come for us soon enough," Cye purred, leaning over him and nipping at his lips as if he had every right in the world to do so. "In the meantime, I intend to enjoy..." His hands were on Aya now, caressing and brushing all those spots he had found last night that made Aya gasp. "... every minute."
Aya could no longer ignore the delicious ache between his legs, or pretend it wasn't there. He was covered by the sheet, at least, while Cye was exposed in all his honey-golden nude glory on top of him. Unconsciously, as Cye's knowing fingers brought his skin to life and his body to burning, Aya shifted away from him, trying to conceal his arousal. It was a mistake, and he knew it the moment Cye stopped touching him.
"You're shy?" the boy teased him, though his voice was gentle. Aya turned his face, realizing he had not spoken a word yet since waking up. Cye had noticed it as well. "Quiet, too. Aya?" The fingers turning his chin back to look up into warm aquamarine eyes were light, but inescapable. "You're not upset about last night, are you?"
Such anxiety lay written all over his face that Aya could not keep silent a moment longer. "No," came out softly and simply, truthfully. But that was all he said.
It was enough. Cye smiled, a gentler version of the pouncing smile, and began to tug the sheet away. Quickly, Aya grabbed it on pure reflex. With one look in Cye's eyes, he knew he was doomed. An eyebrow had gone up, and the coral-pink lips were pursed thoughtfully. "So you really are just shy. Tsk," he clucked reprovingly at Aya, bending down close to his ear. "After all my hard work, too."
Cye's warm mouth began to caress his neck, leaving hot, wet trails all over his sensitive skin. He unerringly found the places that made Aya's body go slack, the spots that seemed somehow directly in control of the nerves in his hands and fingers, and told them immediately to cease and desist all resistance. A moment later, Cye had deftly yanked the sheet from Aya's loosened grasp and exposed him completely.
Before he could object, familiar fingers were touching him everywhere. They invaded between his legs, exciting the soft skin of his inner thighs until he parted, seeking the promise of a more intimate touch. Aya's hands came alive suddenly, roaming over Cye's back and clutching at him. This excitement was so unreal, this desire to open himself up and offer everything was so unlike everything Aya knew about himself, that he needed the weight and warmth of Cye's body to assure him that what was happening was not some strange dream.
"I know you won't believe me if I tell you that you're beautiful," Cye murmured in his ear. "So let me show you." One of Aya's hands was commandeered by a gentle but insistent grasp of Cye's hand, and guided unwillingly over his body. Aya tried to pull his hand back, squirming beneath Cye.
"Don't... don't," he barely breathed.
"Shh. It won't hurt, and we're the only ones here." Despite all the coaxing and convincing that Cye had to do every time he wanted to touch Aya, he remained surprisingly calm and sweet about it.
His fingers were drawn down, closer to the heat that Aya refused to look at. He focused on Cye instead, who met his eyes with a soft look of encouragement that did little to hide the blaze of desire just under the surface. "There," Cye whispered, making Aya jump when his fingers encountered the thick wetness at the very tip of his sex. Under the guidance of Cye's hand, his fingertips smeared the hot drops up and down, coating the entire head of his cock with a light layer of wet. Aya couldn't stop the moan that drifted up at the feeling of his fingers slipping and sliding almost playfully over his most sensitive skin.
Cye's hand slipped away then, leaving Aya lightly, thoughtfully stroking himself with no further prodding. "I won't even touch you," he promised in a whisper, shifting just far enough away that Aya could feel his body heat but not the touch of his skin. "Just let me watch, that's all I want right now."
As he did eventually, without fail, every time Cye suggested something, Aya complied, closing his hand around his cock and beginning to pleasure himself. He knew he was being bewitched by this boy, seduced slowly into doing whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, simply because it felt so good. Because if he did not, his naturally curious mind would be left wondering what might have happened if he had. Because everything that Cye asked him to do was some new wonder that Aya would never have thought of himself.
Stroking his cock while Cye watched most certainly fell under the category of things Aya would not have thought of if not prompted to. He closed his eyes, feeling the weight of Cye's gaze too heavy right now. The feel of his hand slicked by his own excited precome, sliding languidly up and down his hard length, was all he could concentrate on. Gingerly he began to lift his hips, rocking up into the tight channel of his hand. Soft sighs escaped him as his breathing picked up, pleasure flowing drowsily through his entire body.
Even with his eyes closed, Aya could not pretend that he was alone. Cye's moans were quiet but steady, as if he were the one being touched instead of Aya. For a long minute he just listened, hearing the pitch and intensity of those sounds increase little by little... and feeling the rise of need in his own body swell along with the crescendo of Cye's moans. When one low sound came out more broken, more ragged than the others, Aya opened his eyes.
The sight that greeted him was an erotic masterpiece: Cye stretched out on his side, gripping his own hard cock in one hand and stroking it quickly, his gaze locked on Aya's slower-moving hand. At that moment Aya understood just why Cye had wanted to watch him. The view was intoxicating, coupled with the knowledge that he and he alone had brought Cye to this frantic, fevered pace.
"Cye..." he gasped out the warning. The pressure on his balls was growing steadily the longer he watched Cye's hand whisk up and down his own hard length. "Cye... going to..."
"C'mon, luv," he encouraged, never tearing his eyes from Aya's cock for a second. "Let me see it, that's right..." Cye pressed his thumb over the very tip of himself, holding back his own orgasm by force.
That sight threw Aya violently over the edge, and his body clamped hard to force out a powerful orgasm. He was showered in his own hot seed, and it seemed a chorus of voices rather than just his own rang in his ears as he cried out. Dimly he realized that Cye was groaning as well, both of them rocking the bed with their last climactic thrusts.
Soft, fuzzy hair landed against his shoulder, and for a few moments the only sound was the soft pant of their mingled breathing. If Aya had had any questions or doubts, he had forgotten them now. If he had wondered how things were going to be, he now knew. Extremely tiring, but worth the exhausting effort.
~*~*~*~
Cye was bored. Not read a book or watch a movie bored, but needing to shop or club or marathon fuck bored. The first two were impossible and the third might as well be. He circled the kitchen again, a restless, prowling pace that only made the tension worse. He had to be good and patient. After days (weeks?) of barely a touch, last night had been heaven. No, he amended, picking up the teapot and setting it back down. The sex had been fantastic, Aya had been heaven. He could remember every gasp and shivery moan, the tight trembling clasp of him as Cye slid inside. And this morning, good god, watching him touch and writhe...
Cye leaned back against the counter with a groan. It had taken every trace of control this morning to not toss Aya on his back and ravage him senseless. And that would have been a Bad Thing. Firstly, no matter how careful they'd been the redhead was probably somewhat sore and second, everything was coaxing with Aya. Oh, he seemed to appreciate a little forcefulness but there was no way to know how he'd react to real agression. And there was no way Cye was going to do anything that would scare him off.
Unfortnately, Aya had got up as usual and left for the garden right away. He had been a little more talkative, telling Cye that he was going to spend the day repairing trellises. He didn't *seem* upset or more uncomfortable than usual but it was hard to tell. And now, Cye was bored.
He knew better than to follow out to the garden, Aya would probably have some horrid job waiting for him. Swimming was getting dull, there was so little marine life it just wasn't any fun and there wasn't anything else around. Bored, he thought, pacing again. Bored and horny, which was even worse. With a sigh he turned and left the kitchen, maybe he'd find something interesting the library after all.
A few minutes later found him perusing the expanse of shelving. In looking around they found the books loosely grouped by type but it wasn't always the case. Sometimes just the volume they were looking for would be tucked away entirely somewhere else. This time he'd started on the southern shelves, where most of the more fantastic fiction was. A bizarre book for a bizarre place, he thought, skimming over the brightly colored spines. And blinked, looking at the bottom shelf.
Instead of being packed with books, it was mostly taken up by neat magazine boxes filled with comics, manga and other magazines. Further down was another collection of books with covers in muted colors and discrete lettering. He knelt down, taking a better look and started chuckling. It seemed that the house really had duplicated their book collections. Rowan's pornographic book collection, Sage's books of sketches and photos that he insisted were art, and Ryo and Kento's stash of dirty manga, magazines and other assorted books. And even better, a whole host of other items that he knew didn't belong to any of them.
He shouldn't, he told himself, looking over the new items. It was prying, or rude, or something. He didn't know any of Aya's teammates, didn't even have names to go with blurry, half-remembered faces, but they were something new...
Shoving any objections to the back of his mind, Cye knelt in front of the lower shelf and started leafing though spines.
One book finally caught his eye, cover a plain black and the lettering a discrete dark blue. The title was uninteresting, simply claiming to be a collection of yaoi stories but it intrigued him, if nothing else for the lack of cover art or other enticements. Taking the book with him, Cye settled onto the couch and started reading.
~*~*~*~
He'd just begun a new story when Cye heard the whisper of sound from the door. The book had managed to claim his attention all morning, stunningly well written and heatedly explicit. He assumed he'd missed lunch, which would explain the redhead standing in the doorway.
"Hi," Cye said, smiling, "I got sidetracked reading, sorry about that. I'll have lunch taken care of in a bit." He slipped a small strip of paper in the book to mark his place and set it on the coffee table. "So what are you interested in?" he asked, before realizing that Aya wasn't looking at him at all. Instead, his focus was on the book Cye had just set down, and a faint wash of pink began to spread over pale skin.
"Oh," Cye began, slowly getting up and padding towards his embarrassed companion, "I found one of your books, did I? Such lovely stories..." he purred, drawing closer. Aya looked down on him with a mix of suspicion and chagrin. "Why don't we talk about that lovely book of yours," Cye murmured against the other boy's lips before the words turned to a soft kiss.
Aya was pulled to the couch, still too surprised and bashful to object, and Cye curled himself up against his side. He stroked the other's hair softly, trailing his hand down now and then to caress the back of his neck. "That is your book?" he murmured, lipping the rim of the redhead's ear gently. "And from the wear one of your favorites I think... Tell me, lovely," Cye purred, ghosting kisses over the smooth column of pale neck. "Do you touch yourself while you're reading or afterwards..."
The stiffening of Aya's body next to him and the sharp inhale was just music. "I can just picture it, you know..." He whispered, nipping softly at the other's neck. "Lying in bed, just barely the light to read by, pale skin wrapped in the sheets..."
Words worked to excite Aya in a way that touching and kisses just didn't quite. It seemed all Cye really had to do was breathe a few choice descriptors in his ear, and the usually shy boy's resolve was suddenly weakened. It was a wicked trap to use, but if Aya needed convincing, then Cye needed his entire arsenal to coax his companion into what Cye knew he really wanted.
Totally caught off-guard, Aya seemed quite the willing prey to Cye's predatory nature. The hot flush of embarrassment that had first taken him on seeing Cye's reading material quickly evolved into a trembling flush of excitement. Lowered lashes over violet eyes turned his way.
"After..." The lone word slipped out, barely breathed. One of Aya's pale hands rested lightly on Cye's thigh just above his knee. Perhaps Aya would try to fool himself into thinking it was for balance, as the redhead's spine seemed dangerously slippery at the moment.
Much to Cye's surprise, a quickened breath later Aya elaborated on his answer. "After... I would not... malign the literature with such a thing..."
"Mmm, I can imagine, always so proper..." Cye shifted closed, sucking softly on a pink earlobe, as his fingers trailed over Aya's jean clad thigh. "No... you'd torment yourself by reading, not allowing yourself to touch. Naked under the sheets, softness sliding over hot, flushed skin, breathless but trying to stay quiet as you ache.
"Show me," Cye purred, slowly unzipping the redhead and working him free of underwear. "Show me what you do when you ache at night..." Much as he'd done that morning, Cye took one of Aya's hands, wrapping it around already erect flesh. "That's it..." he murmured as Aya hesitantly started to stroke, "Show me. So hard already, go ahead and close your eyes... It's just you and what makes you feel good."
Aya did close his eyes, turning his face away. His free hand came up to his mouth, and he gripped the soft heel of his hand between his teeth to muffle his tiny sounds of pleasure. That would just not do... but just before Cye was ready to pull that hand away and demand to hear, he realized something. Aya was really showing him, in full detail, just what he would do alone late at night. Of course he would have to muffle himself -- he wouldn't want anyone to know what he was doing. Not the silent, stoic swordsman.
Breathing quick and ragged, he touched himself. Light fingers teased the pale length at first, just skimming up and down. Just before they closed around blushing flesh those fingers changed course, dipping down further to where Cye couldn't quite see. Beneath the concealment of Aya's jeans, though, the rippling bulge of digits caressed and massaged his hidden sack, bringing another stifled moan to the surface.
Cye bit his lip against his own moan, not wanting to break the illusion. There was just something so unbearably exciting about watching the redhead, knowing that he was being allowed to see something that no one else had. His eyes were riveted on the stroking fingers, the blushing skin and the tiny droplet beginning to collect as Aya touched. He wanted nothing so bad as to taste, to feel Aya's skin on his but he choked down the impulse, wanting to see what else he'd be shown.
He pressed his own hand over his mouth a moment later, stifling a moan. Aya's hand had crept up again, fingertips dipping into the clear jewel at the tip, spreading it over the heated skin. Aya bit down harder on the heel of his hand as the slickness spread, allowing only the softest groan to escape. Aya thumbed the sensitive ridge under the head then and actually squirmed, pressing his hand to his mouth tighter to muffled the panting breaths.
That quiet, needing sound was more than Cye could stand and he pressed close, his own hand around Aya's, sharing the feel of silky heat. He felt more than heard the startled breath as his lips found Aya's neck and the redhead was jolted out of his fantasy. "I could come just watching you," Cye breathed, placing tiny, nibbling kisses over pale skin. "Want you," he confided, with a sharp nip, moving Aya's hand over the boy's cock a little faster. "Want to bury myself in you again..."
"And," Cye said, leaving Aya to stroke and reaching in the undone jeans to fondle his sack gently, "Unless you tell me no, I'm going to take you right here..." A sharp hiss and Aya's legs parting a bit more was his only reply. Cye reached lower, teasing against the budded entrance, licking at the curve of his neck. "You have to say yes, say yes and I'll drive you crazy again."
"But..." panted Aya, "We're in... we can't..."
"Mmmm... you're right, don't want to forget something that important. Though, if this place is modeled after our house..." An impish grin lit Cye's face and he dug under the couch cushion with his free hand, close to the arm. Smirking, he pulled his hand back out, showing the tightly capped plastic tube to Aya. "This what you were talking about, luv? Never know where the mood will strike, you know."
At this, Aya flushed the prettiest shade of red, his violet eyes wide and shocked. This revelation offended all the quiet boy's sensibilities. Sex was not something done on library couches, nor, apparently, in the presence of books. Lubricant was not something to be stowed underneath a cushion.
By this point, Cye thought he would have bent enough of Aya's rigid personal rules that it would not be such a shock. But there he was, pink-cheeked and panting not just from arousal, staring at Cye and utterly mortified.
"You cannot just... you do not know where... what are you *doing*?" he finally burst out.
"I can, I do and you certainly know what I'm going to do," Cye purred, setting the tube down and yanking the redhead's shirt off. He nuzzled in to the breadth of pale chest, prompting another gasp. "Mmmm... you *can* tell me to stop but I don't think you want to..."
Another delicious struggle ensued. Aya was strong, and it made him all the more beautiful when he was writhing under Cye's mouth. Cye had seen him wield his katana and knew he was a fighter. Knowing that fact just made it all the more delicious when Cye's light touches and well-placed kisses defeated the fiery warrior. He knew he'd won when Aya tugged hesitantly at the hem of his shirt. Cye leaned forward a little to help him get it off and rewarded the blushing redhead with a heart-stopping kiss.
Pulling back he pushed at Aya's already undone pants. "Need these off, luv," he purred, slipping them down and off. The blush, as usual, had migrated, leaving nearly all that creamy skin pink. Aya splayed breathlessly before him, legs spread to show just a hint of the dark rose between.
Last night, Cye had carefully stripped away some of those old thorns, grown from preconceptions of what Aya thought sex was supposed to be. Now his pretty rose was still green in places, needing special care to heal over properly where old defenses had been taken away. Cye would have to show him, step by step, in the light of day, what making love was really all about.
Cye shucked his own shorts quickly and pulled a panting, excited Aya across his lap. "Now then," he murmured, running fingertips over his companion's arousal, "We're going to do it a little different. Let me know if you start getting sore?"
Aya nodded weakly, pressing his burning face into Cye's shoulder as the Ronin picked the tube up again to coat two fingers thickly. Cye nudged long, pale legs apart and pressed slippery fingers up slowly. A soft keening whimper worked free as Aya's legs slid further open and he arched into the touch.
"Ohhh, oh yes, lovely," Cye breathed, panting just a little. He sucked delicately at the white arch of neck, never stopping the gentle rocking of his hand. "Going to feel so good, pretty. Lovely Aya, want that sweet body so much, want you so hot and tight around me..."
Aya gasped in surprise, forcibly sinking himself down further onto Cye's fingers. "Oh! Why... why does that..."
Careful not to push too far, Cye scissored his fingers slightly, stretching the clenched muscles wider. "Why does it feel so good?" he whispered, finishing the words Aya couldn't bring himself to ask. He worked his fingers deeper into the hot body on his lap, sliding in and out with a slight twist, pleasuring the way only fingers could. "Because you want it to... because I want it to... because we both want. Because we want each other."
When he felt the tight ring start to relax a little and the panting against his shoulder gaining a ragged edge, Cye drew his fingers back and get himself ready quickly. He pulled Aya upright then and across his lap so his pretty redhead was straddling his hips, looking at him. Aya gave another breathless moan as he was nudged back a little, feeling the hard length rubbing against him.
Light hands rested on his shoulders, steadying, and Aya looked down at him with an odd expression. Wariness, coupled with uncertainty, and Cye knew he had another thorn to strip.
"We don't want to ruin the upholstery," Cye said with a little mischief and pushed Aya down slowly. Aya moaned, wrapping his arms around Cye's neck and burying his face against the other's neck. Cye let him sink slowly, adjusting, while holding the other boy tight. Aya controlled his own slow impalement, opening his willingness to be loved like this.
"Oh god, Aya," he breathed, finally buried to the hilt. "So good..."
"So deep..." came the shivering voice, pressed close. "Deep... inside..."
As he had the night before, Cye held him tight until the trembing stopped and Aya started to relax. With a soft kiss, he slid his hands down to the swordsman's hips, showing him how to move.
Panting moans and whispered encouragements soon filled the sunlit room, spilling from the pair locked in their tight embrace. When Cye finally reached, fingers curling around Aya's erection, the sharp cry rang out, throwing away the usual shield of reserve.
"Come on, love," Cye urged, thrusting up into that sweet clasp faster. "Please Aya, please come for me. Need to feel you so much..." He pumped his hand faster, feeling the hard throb in his hand, knowing that it would be soon. Aya rocked harder, eyes screwed tightly shut, hands on Cye's shoulders for support. The startled gasp was Cye's only warning as Aya clenched like a vise around him and spilled hot and hard into his hand. The pressure forced a ragged cry from Cye as he thrust up hard, spasming in wracking waves.
Calming slowly, Cye stroked his pretty redhead's hair gently, feeling each gasping tremble through where they were still joined together. The thought prompted a small frown, thankfully hidden from view. When had he started thinking of Aya as his, and why? The swordsman had his own life, and apparently a fairly secretive one. It wouldn't be likely that he'd stay around when they got back.
Cye could still remember the seeking touch of his friends' minds from the morning. He'd been so elated then, knowing that while it could take time, he would be with them again. Now... sitting in the afternoon sun, in Aya's body, Aya in his arms, he had to wonder at the sudden traitorous impulse to want to stay here forever.
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